Seer: Go Grimdark
by IsOkayGood
Summary: Your name is Rose Lalonde and your body is no longer your own. [One-shot]


It starts with a cough. Within a minute your lungs are spluttering and you find yourself gasping for breath. The cue ball falls from your hand but you find yourself too busy clutching at your chest in some desperate hope of stopping them from taking control over your body to even notice it bounce away from you. You quickly begin to wonder if you might see the world end before you find any sort of relief.

And then, all at once, it stops.

Your throat aches and you figure there might even be a possibility that all of your insides have somehow been replaced with a sandpapery material. The game had brought things to life you couldn't even fathom were possible, so you would hardly be surprised. But the coughing has stopped. It's a small relief.

You look around with weary eyes. The consorts surrounding you all look at you with a sort of pity and you can't help but give a pleading look back. You don't dare speak, in fear of causing yourself more pain. You know they can't do anything to help you anyway, but you don't know what else to do; a sense of frustration and helplessness pounds in your head.

Jade asks what the cue ball tells you, but you wouldn't dare worry her like that. You cling to a small shred of hope that maybe this will pass. Maybe they will change their minds.

_GG: what did it say?_

_GG: rose are you still there?_

_TT: Jade, something is happening._

_TT: I may be a little... preoccupied for the next few minutes._

_TT: I'm sorry._

Then as suddenly as before, the coughing begins again. You rush to catch the blood that flies from your lips but immediately pull your hands away in horror. You watch the grey creep up your arms at an alarming pace and you can do nothing but sit and watch it happen.

Now the sensations get worse. You swear you can feel the tentacles of the Horrorterrors wrap themselves around you, though when you frantically look around, your surroundings have not changed but for the lacking of the consorts that had surrounded you. You wouldn't doubt if they had scampered off to hide from you. You'd hide from yourself if you could. You're just as frightened as they are. Even when you cry out, your voice seems weird and contorted. Your words come out in a language you don't speak. But you're calling for her. You know it wont bring her back but you can't stop yourself.

And then you hear them. You never truly understood them before, their whisperings were undecipherable. Your connection with them allowed you enough to understand what they meant, but only the idea, as though their intentions were inserted straight into your mind. But now, now you could understand every word of their whispers. They remind you that resistance is futile though that is clearer to you than it ever has been before. You mentally curse yourself for not just trusting Jade's instincts on the true nature of what you've been dealing with.

You can't believe how blindly you trusted them. But your shame is quickly replaced with anger and grief once more. You're reminded of why you even considered allowing this to happen to you in the first place. All your insides seem to shift as your feelings overwhelm you. You didn't let Jade on to the true extent of the grief you have over your mother's death. You should have protected her. Certainly all these plots and insanities you had been thinking over could have waited long enough for you to find her. Surely the life of the woman who raised you was more important than all of that.

Your fury takes hold of you and you are sure that the Gods of the Furthest Ring are intensifying your emotions greatly. But it doesn't matter. Revenge is all that matters now. That singular emotion, the sole idea that Jack Noir must pay, is the only thought in your mind. Your new objective overshadows whatever it was that you had concerned yourself with before it. You can barely even remember what that was.

Your limbs seem to move of their own accord, drawing you onward. You don't know how to stop. You're not even sure it's a possibility.

But when you descend onto the gruesome scene with no Jack Noir to be found, another though creeps back into your mind.

John.

If you still had a heart, you could feel it drop. Your anger simmers slightly, leaving room for a sort of sadness. You had not known about what happened until just now when Jade broke the news and you have no doubt in your mind that John doesn't know.

But when you reach him, he doesn't understand. You think of every way to phrase it, both you know he can hear nothing but the garbled nonsense you had become so accustomed to hearing. No matter how you beg for him to understand, he can't. So you do the only thing you can. The only way you can explain it to him.

You can do nothing but stand beside him as he stumbles across the scene and it dawns on him. You watch his eyes begin to tear up, but you do nothing but give him a sympathetic, tired nod. Now is not the time for mourning. Nor is it time when you watch Jack drives his sword through John's chest.

Now is the time for vengeance.

And you try. You really do. You know this fight will most likely kill you, but you are focused and the adrenaline and need rush through your veins. You need to make him pay. You know you will never forgive yourself if you lose.

But as his sword rips through your skin, you can't help but feel a little relieved. You never truly wanted this to happen anyway.

All you wanted was happiness, to keep them safe.

But you couldn't do it.

Maybe you were better off this way. You'd never thought of yourself as the type to give up, but maybe trying to incite the Scratch was just as useless as you thought it might be.

Maybe it was about time you let go.


End file.
